Fight or Flight
by Mals86
Summary: Tommy Conlon, the wrestler described as a "freshman prodigy" in a newspaper article, has a lot to lose when he travels across the country with his mother to try to make a new life somewhere else, away from his abusive father and the brother he misses so much. Even making a new, good friend in Tacoma isn't enough to make things change.
1. Chapter 1: Killer Instinct

**Fight or Flight**

_**The fight-or-flight response, also known as the acute stress response, refers to a physiological reaction that occurs in the presence of something that is terrifying, either mentally or physically. The fight-or-flight response was first described in the 1920s by American physiologist Walter Cannon. Cannon realized that a chain of rapidly occurring reactions inside the body help mobilize the body's resources to deal with threatening circumstances. **_

_**In response to acute stress, the body's sympathetic nervous system is activated due to the sudden release of hormones. The sympathetic nervous systems stimulates the adrenal glands triggering the release of catecholamines, which include adrenaline and noradrenaline. This results in an increase in heart rate, blood pressure and breathing rate. The fight-or-flight response is also known as the acute stress response. Essentially, the response prepares the body to either fight or flee the threat. It is also important to note that the response can be triggered due to both real and imaginary threats.**_** (Taken from Psychology dot-about dot-com website.)**

**This fic, by the way, will be totally unrelated to my other Warrior fics. There may be some similar elements, but essentially speaking, this is not the Tommy of The Long Road Home.**

Chapter 1

Tommy Conlon grabbed his duffel bag out of the back seat, popped open the passenger side door of the Oldsmobile and hopped out, heading up the cement steps at a fast clip. "Where's the fire, kiddo?" Pop called from the car, but he was amused instead of pissed off, so Tommy kept going. Straight into the house, through the living room, into the kitchen, right to Mom, who was just turning away from the sink in surprise.

"You're back," she said, happy, and Tommy ran right at her, dropping the bag on the floor.

"I won!" He picked her up and spun her around, ignoring her little squeal. "I won, I won!"

"I know, honey," she said, still smiling, as he set her down and she straightened her dress. "I know, it was on TV. We taped it." She reached up to kiss his cheek. "I'm so proud of you. One step closer to that scholarship, isn't it?"

"Hope so. Three more years to wrestle – I wanna win 'em _all._" Mom laughed, and he looked around. "Where's Brendan?" Usually his brother was right there to congratulate him after a match. Brendan would probably commiserate with him if he lost, but that hadn't been necessary so far. And anyway, it just didn't feel right to not have Brendan's grin in his face, Brendan's thump on his shoulders.

Mom nodded toward the dining room. "Doing homework with a friend." The front door opened, and Mom went to greet Pop. Tommy grabbed the thing out of his duffel bag and went into the dining room, wondering why Brendan would be doing homework on the Sunday afternoon after the state wrestling tournament, and who he'd be doing it with.

_Oh. That girl. _

But there was Brendan, getting up from the table and coming toward him, and Tommy hugged him big. Everything, good or bad, was always better with Brendan's arms around him. "Good job, little bro," Brendan said. They were the right words, and Brendan's smile was proud as always, but something about his voice seemed off. Like he was tired, or something.

"Got you a little something," Tommy said, unfolding the tournament t-shirt he'd bought his brother with his own money. If Brendan couldn't make it there on his own – he'd lost, by points, at Regionals and come in third in his weight class – then the least Tommy could do was share the experience somehow. "Woulda been more fun if you'd made it to States, but I thought you might like this anyway. And maybe you can make it next year."

"Oh thanks," Brendan said flatly, losing his smile, and Tommy pulled up short, blinking. What had he said wrong? Brendan was so touchy these days.

And then Pop was in the dining room with them, one arm around Mom's waist, asking, "And who's_ this?_" in that tone he got when anybody visited.

"Pop," Brendan said, and let go of Tommy. "This is Tess Mahoney. We – we're working on a project for history class. Tess, this is my dad."

The girl stood up, smiled, and offered her hand to shake. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Conlon."

"No, no, my pleasure," Pop said, with a smile for her. "Carry on with that project, then. How about some fresh coffee, woman?" he said to Mom.

"Comin' right up," Mom said, and went back in the kitchen.

"You see Tommy's medal?" Pop asked Brendan, gesturing. He put his arm around Tommy's shoulders and squeezed. "_That's_ my boy." Pop's pride was about the best feeling in the world, and Tommy couldn't keep the grin off his face.

"Hard not to," Brendan said. He smiled, but it was only a mouth smile. "It's pretty shiny."

"You shoulda had one a' those," Pop said to Brendan. "If you'd trained a little harder, put some effort in like your brother."

From the kitchen, Mom called, "Paddy? You want cream and sugar, or just sugar?" and Pop nodded to them and went into the kitchen.

"Only _you _would wear that all the way home in the car," Brendan said to Tommy.

"What's wrong with that?" Tommy asked, feeling somehow that the pleasure had gone out of coming home victorious. It didn't feel right, Brendan not being happy for him. Brendan more interested in That Girl, that felt weird and wrong.

Brendan shook his head and didn't answer the question. There was a brief silence, while Tommy just looked at Brendan, trying to figure out what had his brother's shorts in a wad. The girl looked at Brendan. Brendan stared down at the papers on the table, his mouth sort of pinched up. The girl turned her head back to Tommy. "Hi," she said. "Congratulations." Then she poked Brendan's elbow, and Brendan finally looked back up.

"Oh. Yeah. Tess, this is my brother Tommy. You know Tess, don't you, Tommy?"

Of course Tommy knew Tess Mahoney. Knew_ of_ her, anyway. She was one of the prettiest cheerleaders at Taylor Allderdice High School: blonde hair, long legs, big toothpaste smile. Everybody liked her. There were bathroom stall door messages written in Sharpie about how dozens of guys wanted to wear her like a collar, but she wouldn't put out. Too pure. Nice Catholic girl. Brendan had had a crush on her for, like, _ever_.

And by the way Tess Mahoney was smiling at Brendan, she had a crush on him too. _She_ was the reason Brendan had slacked off on his training over the last month. _She_ was the reason Tommy'd gotten a C in English, because Brendan usually helped him with his homework when Pop went overboard with Tommy's training, but Bren hadn't been around much lately. He was over at Tess' house studying (studying, yeah, _right_), or at her church's youth group, or at a party with her.

Tommy, suddenly feeling left out and hollow, feeling too young and too skinny and not good-looking enough for a girlfriend, lied out loud. "No," he said, flat and rude like he didn't care. If Brendan was going to be an asshole about the tournament and spend all his free time with somebody not family, he could go piss up a tree. _Great, now I'm going to have to confess to lying and using profane language. And jealousy._

Tess Mahoney's Crest smile slid right off her face, and Brendan narrowed his eyes. "Well. Tommy, this is Tess." The tone of his voice said, _And you better shape up and treat her nice, too, or you'll regret it._

Fine, he'd play along. Make nicey-nice with That Girl. "Pleasure to meet you, Tess." He realized that he'd been balling up the new t-shirt in his hands, crumpling it, ever since Brendan had started making snarky remarks, and tried to smooth it out.

Mom came up behind him and ruffled his hair. "I made you some brownies. You kids want some?"

_Brownies, my favorite, awesome_. Tommy, moving to hug Mom again, saw Brendan make a face. Brendan didn't really like brownies – who doesn't like _brownies?_ – and he'd always rather have peanut butter cookies. "Yes, please. And some milk."

"I'd love a brownie, thanks, Mrs. Conlon," That Girl said. She was being really nice, pretending she didn't feel the tension in the room, and Tommy was halfway to giving her an approving nod before he remembered the code: _Just us. We keep ourselves to ourselves. We don't need anybody's nose in our business._ It had been second nature since the time Mom had to go to the hospital, when Tommy was five, and the social services people started nosing around. It was the code, the Conlon code, and Brendan seemed poised to break it for That Girl. Tommy glared at his brother.

"Milk and brownies all around, then," Mom said, and kissed him again. "Gotta feed my boys. You hungry, Tommy?"

Before Tommy could even answer her, Brendan snorted out loud. "When is he not?"

"Brendan," Mom said, mildly reproving. "I mean, do you want something else before the brownie, Tommy?"

"No, we ate a pretty good lunch on the way back from Hershey. But thank you. Just brownie, please. Can I have two, though?"

"No," Pop said from the kitchen. "Too much sugar. You know the rules, Tom."

"Can't I take the week off? As a, you know, celebration?" Tommy had been hoping for that. He knew that most of the high school athletes got a few days of rest after a big competition, before going back to serious training. Most Olympic athletes, too, they could take a week off heavy training before getting back to the grind.

"You got Junior Olympics comin' up," Pop said. "No can do, son."

"Juniors is in July. The _end _of July," Tommy protested. That was more than four months away. "Not even a couple of days?"

"Four months, Paddy," Mom said, cajoling. "You always say you can do a lot of conditioning in a short period of time."

"You tellin' me what to do?" It wasn't quite Pop's warning voice, but it was heading in that direction.

"Not at all," Mom said calmly. "I just know you two do a good job together, and you always say good work should be rewarded."

"Winning's the reward," Pop pointed out. "But fine. Against my better judgment, you can have a coupla days off. We go hard again Thursday morning, kiddo, got me?"

"Yes sir." Tommy caught That Girl giving him a sympathetic look, and it stung. _Who do you even think you are?_ he thought furiously in her direction.

That night, Tommy was in bed long before Brendan came home, but he wasn't asleep. Too much adrenaline, still, probably – the phone had rung several times since they got home, some of Pop's buddies calling to congratulate him, and Tommy had told the story of his tournament win probably six times over. And tomorrow at school, he'd probably get his name on the morning announcements. Get his picture up in the "Hall of Fame" outside the school office, since anybody who won anything at the state level got their picture up… that'd be cool.

And maybe some of the JV cheerleaders would notice. Amanda Packard, Shannan Fitzroy, Lucia Allegretti… Lucia looked a lot like Alyssa Milano. He started wondering what Lucia Allegretti would look like taking off her little tank top… and lifting her little short skirt… the simple thought of cheerleader T&amp;A got him hard in, like, ten seconds. Brendan was gone, and it was quiet downstairs, only the TV on and soft relaxed adult voices. Privacy was such a rarity, he might as well take care of the issue. Tommy put one knee up under the covers, making a little space, and pulled his boxers out of the way.

He had a good mental picture of Lucia naked and a firm grip on his wood when the front door finally opened. _Shit_. (Oops. Another one to keep track of for Father McMahon. And the lustful thoughts, too. Better to confess than walk around for the next three days with the pressure building up in his balls, though.) Tommy, freezing with his hand on his stiffie, gave up on the idea of getting done before Brendan came upstairs. But there was Pop talking downstairs, "So how well do you know that girl? Is she your girlfriend?"

"Yes," Brendan said, defensive. "Yes, she is my girlfriend."

Tommy, though he'd known it for some time, still felt a swooping feeling in his stomach, hearing Brendan say it. For the first time ever, his brother had put someone else ahead of family. There was a big difference, in Tommy's opinion, between thinking about Capital-G-Girls in the abstract and having one specific real girl in the particular. What if she didn't understand Brendan's loyalties? What if she came over sometime when Pop was on the sauce? Disaster.

"You wanna watch it, then," Pop said. "You were gone a long time, taking her home."

"It takes awhile, on the bus," Brendan said, clearly wishing Pop had agreed to let him take That Girl home in the Olds. "All the way to Squirrel Hill and back. I went inside and talked to her parents for a little while. Just getting to know them, being mannerly."

"Next time I'll make a pan of brownies for them, too," Mom said, sounding pleased. "It's nice to take a little gift when you visit with people."

"You still spent a lot of time at it," Pop said. "You be careful with girls. You can get in trouble real quick."

Brendan sighed. "Before you tell me to keep it in my pants and not get her pregnant, Pop, she's not like that."

"Don't talk like that in front of your mother, boy." _Oh God please_. Pop's tone of voice… if Brendan didn't lay off the sass, Pop might make him sorry. Tommy sighed and pulled his boxers back up.

"I'm sorry, Mom," Brendan said. "But you know she's not like that. And I don't like the implication that I'm like that."

"It's all right," Mom said. Smoothing things over, like always. "I know, honey. You're good kids. Now you go on and get your rest, you have school tomorrow." There was the soft sound of Mom kissing Brendan's cheek, and then Pop turned the TV back up for some cop show he and Mom were watching.

Then Brendan's feet on the stairs, Brendan's relief so profound Tommy could almost hear it. He came in with a light step and the faint scent of perfume on his jacket, and it just made Tommy hornier and more annoyed at being interrupted. Brendan turned on the lamp between their beds and kicked off his shoes. "_Dude_," he said. "What were you doin'?"

"Like you don't know," Tommy snapped back. "Like you don't do it under your covers when you think I'm asleep. At least you were outta the house when I got started. And you got back before I got done, so how about you apologize to _me_?"

Brendan exhaled through his nose, and started getting undressed. "I'm not apologizing for interruptin' your jack session. Who were you thinkin' about?" He yanked off his jeans and padded barefoot to the dresser. "_God_. Can you _please_ find somewhere else to put your endless stupid trophies? There's no room on this thing."

"Alyssa Milano." Might as well lie, he already had so many things to confess next Saturday, and if Bren found out he had the hots for Lucia Allegretti he'd never hear the end of it.

Brendan pulled a pair of gym shorts out of the drawer and put them on, then traded his good t-shirt for a ragged Pirates tee that really should have already hit the ragbag, except that it was soft to sleep in. "She's hot," he offered in a conciliatory tone. "You and your brown-eyed girls, huh?"

"I guess." There was a pause while Brendan stuffed some papers into his backpack and pulled out a clean school shirt for tomorrow. Tommy settled onto his back again, hoping his dick would go soft so he could get some sleep. "Bren? Are you in love with her?"

"With Alyssa Milano?" Brendan grinned over his shoulder.

"No, dumbass. With That Girl."

"Her name is _Tess,_ Tommy. And don't let Pop hear you swear." He pulled back the covers on his bed, then turned out the lamp. Tommy heard the springs on the bed creak as Brendan got in.

"You are, aren't you?" He heard his own voice, sounding mad. Why did he care so much? Why shouldn't Brendan get to have a girlfriend? Plenty of guys had girlfriends. Tommy's best friend – best being relative, because nobody was better than Bren – Jason Firebaugh had a girlfriend, even though Jason was 5'3" and 110 pounds soaking wet, with a big nose.

Brendan sighed. "I don't know. Maybe." There was another silence. "I've never… Tommy, I don't know what I'm doin', okay? But when I kiss her… it's so sweet. It's just, I don't know, it feels like heaven. It feels like the most beautiful thing ever, so beautiful I feel like crying."

_Wow._ Tommy, not knowing what to say, said nothing. He just, he just didn't get it. For all he knew, Pop and Mom used to feel like that about each other, and look at them now.

"Forget about it." Brendan sighed again. "Never mind."

"Why do you talk to Pop like that? It just makes him mad. And it's Mom he takes it out on."

"I didn't mean to. But you know how he talks about girls sometimes, like they're out to trap guys in marriage. Like they're only good for sex and making babies and taking care of the house. It makes me mad, you know?"

"I don't really know any girls," Tommy admitted. "Not, you know, like friends."

"Tess likes you. She said you have a great smile and a lot of enthusiasm."

Tommy did not want his brother's hot cheerleader girlfriend to _like him_, like he was some puppy that needed patting on the head. Already he was foreseeing all her cheerleader friends pinching his cheek, saying, "Aww, isn't he cute? Such a pretty boy. So enthusiastic." Chances were, they still wouldn't go out with him. But Brendan was trying to cheer him up, so he'd return the favor. "Really wish you'd gone to States. You're good. You know, Pop was right. If you just worked harder…"

"Shut up."

"Seriously. There were guys in my weight class who weren't as good as you. You just gotta develop that killer instinct, you know? Not let up."

"Oh yeah, 'cause we'd _all _be better off with a killer instinct." Brendan sounded sarcastic.

"I mean on the mat. Not at home."

"Shut _up,_ Tommy."

_I was just trying to help_. For just a second, tears came into Tommy's eyes, and he blinked them away. How come it felt like Brendan was leaving him behind all of a sudden? "This sucks," he said out loud, and he could hear his own voice, sort of thick. "I hate it when you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad at you," Brendan said, and his voice was tired. Like they'd had this conversation six million times instead of never. "Look… you wanna go ahead and finish, I'll shove the pillow over my head. I won't listen."

Tommy's dick leapt right back to flagpole status, ignoring his embarrassment. "You sure?"

"Promise. I know how it gets sometimes when you don't finish… maybe next time I'm desperate, you can ignore me and _not_ gimme shit about it, deal?"

Too good to pass up. "Deal." This time around it was Alyssa Milano in his head for real, whispering about how big he was and how good he made her feel, and it didn't take long at all. Tommy went to sleep with the wet tissues crumpled up in his hand, thinking, _Tomorrow. Tomorrow I'm a big shot at school. And Juniors, next. Things can only get better._


	2. Chapter 2

I know, I know… this is an update called "Chapter 2" when we'd been well up into forty-some chapters. It's confusing.

However, bear with me a minute. I wanted to explain that I would be removing most of my multi-chapter fics from this site. The reason is that one of my bestest writer-buddies, Wynter S. Komen, just found out that someone had STOLEN her story, "In the Land of Gods and Monsters," changed some details, and published it as a Kindle ebook. For sale. For _money_.

In fact, not one but two different people (or the same person with two different pen names) stole her story and published it, and profited from someone else's work.

And while I am beyond grateful to Fanfiction for providing a platform and an outlet for those of us who love stories to share them, free, out of our hearts, I'm no longer willing to risk having stories stolen and sold.

I will be leaving my profile here, as well as my two short fics and the first chapters of my longer fics, but everything else will be removed.

I'm sorry.

I am horribly, horribly sad that I won't get to finish Tommy's story arc here and tell you how he lost Ali and how he got into the Corps and became the tortured hero we all love. I regret it so much.

I'm hurt, too. I am proud of these stories I've posted here, and sad that they're going to be tucked away and not read anymore. I know that if you've come here to read this story, you're disappointed too.

I am still enormously glad that I've met so many terrific readers and writers here, and I am thankful every day that I met Wynter S. Komen and Nik216 here. It was on Fanfiction that we met and began corresponding, and began a triumvirate focused on encouragement and improving our writing, and now the three of us are ready to begin careers as writers. This is a huge deal for us, and someday I hope to announce that we have secured publishing contracts.

I will not be posting any new stories or resurrecting the ones I've removed. I feel that this chapter of my writing life has closed – and we all know that feeling, don't we? Where you're satisfied by the happily-ever-after part but sad that it's finally arrived.

I want to wish you all continued happy reading on this site. If you'd like to contact me, please do – I will be reachable at wynn AT wynnguthrie DOT com (sorry about the bot-defeating strategy there).

I do hope to finish the last six chapters of this fic, and would like to make readers this offer: If you have already commented on/reviewed this fic, and would like to read the final six chapters when I finish them, please PM me here or email my personal account with your email address*, and I will send them to you. I can't promise when that will happen, but I can't let Tommy and Ali down this close to the end, and I want to express my deep appreciation for letting me share my story with you.

_*if you're putting your email address in a private message to me here at FFnet, do something to it so that it doesn't look like it should, so FFnet doesn't simply wipe it out of your message. Like this: malsnano86 AT geemale dot com (my other email addy, associated with my perfume blog)- stick spaces in there, spell stuff out, something like that. Otherwise I won't get it. Thanks._


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